


I'll do this for You

by gelowo93



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, post season eight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelowo93/pseuds/gelowo93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season eight finale, Team Free Will have been lying low in the Men of Letters' bunker, though Cas has been avoiding the others. Dean stumbles upon him while wandering around the corridors, and comforts him over the angels Falling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll do this for You

**Author's Note:**

> This is for vulcansongallifrey on tumblr, who prompted "super fluffy post-season-8-acknowledging-feelings-for-the-first-time type thing. Like maybe starting with Dean comforting Cas about all of the angels falling."
> 
> This work has not been beta-d, so any mistakes are entirely my own.
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or its characters. They belong to their respective creators.

It was too quiet.

Dean wandered the halls of the bunker, the only noise his own echoing footsteps. No one else was around; Kevin had gone to his room a few hours ago, Sam was sleeping, as he had been for the past few days since he had tried to cure Crowley (Dean made a mental note to check on him again in an hour or two), Crowley was chained up in the dungeon, and Cas…

Cas had turned up at the bunker the two days ago, and Dean had been so relieved to see him again. He had pulled him into a bone-crushing hug that Cas had returned rather awkwardly, patting Dean on the back. Cas had ignored Dean’s questions and retreated into the bunker, and Dean hadn’t seen him since. Sometimes at night, he thought he heard someone moving around and was certain that it was Cas, but when he got up to find the source of the noise he found nothing except a slightly emptier fridge.

Dean took a swig of the beer he was carrying. He wanted to be out there, hunting things, doing something about the hundreds of fallen angels, and being stuck in here made him restless with pent up energy. Earlier, he had brought out Sam’s laptop and started looking up weird news stories to find a case, but there was no use, not with Sammy recovering from whatever the trials had done to him. He had thought about taking Kevin out on a case, but had quickly decided against it; the kid didn’t need to get more involved with this lifestyle, plus he had a target over his head anyway, it was best if he kept lying low. He would take Cas with him, if he could find him, but he seemed to have hidden somewhere in the depths of the bunker that the rest of them hadn’t discovered yet.

He kept walking, taking a left turn here, going up a flight of stairs, turning right, back down two flights of a different staircase. The hallways were like a maze that Dean wasn’t certain he would find his way back through, as each time he turned a corner he entered a corridor that was identical to the previous ones: the same stone walls painted white, the same paved floor, and the same grey metal doors set into the walls, the only difference being that they were at different points along the hallways. The simpleness and lack of décor contrasted with the art deco style of the main rooms.

Dean guessed that the Men of Letters had gotten fed up of decorating the entire bunker.

As he passed them, Dean tried to open some of the doors. Most were locked – Dean wondered if they had the key to them somewhere – but a few opened and he had a quick look inside the rooms. A lot of the doors opened into libraries, or archive rooms that no one had entered for so long and were so dusty that Dean started coughing as soon as he set foot in them, but a few surprised him, such as the corridor where all the rooms were bare but for a devil’s trap engraved onto the floor and chains cemented to the floor and walls – clearly a row of cells for keeping caught demons.

The hallways became colder the more Dean walked, as if he was travelling further and further underground, which was a good possibility. He started shivering, and debated trying to find his way back to the central rooms before he got too lost, until he glanced down a new corridor and had to take a second look, because one of the doors was slightly ajar.

It shouldn’t have made him suspicious; a big place like this, it wouldn’t be that weird for a few doors to not be shut fully. But it did, and Dean walked slowly down the hall towards it, one hand on the gun that he kept in the back of his jeans, and hoping that his footsteps weren’t as loud as he thought they were.

When he reached the door, he peered through the gap first, trying to see if there was a reason why the door had been left open. The light was on, and from the sliver of room that he could see, it looked like a bedroom, but he couldn’t be sure.  Dean toed open the door further, grateful that it didn’t squeak, and when nothing jumped out at him, he pushed it all the way and entered the room properly.

It _was_ a bedroom, but Dean barely registered the bed that hadn’t been made, the bare walls, and the trench coat thrown unceremoniously across the foot of the bed.

Cas was sat on the bed, his back to Dean and his head bowed, holding it in his hands. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, and Dean could see a hint of muscle through the white shirt that stretched across Cas’ shoulders. Dean followed the lines of Cas’ body with his eyes, examining every inch of him, and properly looking at him for the first time in a long while; Cas’ shoulders were slumped, whether in exhaustion or hopelessness – or a mix of the two – Dean couldn’t tell, he looked thinner than he had before, even two days ago, and, now he was paying closer attention, he could see that Cas was shaking slightly.

Dean lingered in the doorway, unsure what to do. He thought about leaving quietly, pretending that he had never found where Cas had been hiding; Cas had been avoiding everyone in a clear attempt to not talk to anyone, and Dean didn’t want to intrude. But it was _Cas_ , and Dean had seen him possessed by Leviathans, avoiding being killed in Purgatory, and after finding out that God was apathetic to stopping the Apocalypse, but he had never seen him like this.

“Cas?” Dean said, eventually, his voice soft. Cas didn’t move; he didn’t show any sign that he had heard Dean speak, and after a few moments of silence Dean was about to turn around and leave him be when Cas spoke:

“Dean.” He still hadn’t moved or turned around to look at Dean. “You found me.”

“Yeah, I was just exploring the place. I can leave –”

“No. Please stay.”

“Sure.” Dean crossed the room and sat next to Cas on the bed. He was struck by a sudden awkwardness – he had never been good at comforting people, and Cas still hadn’t moved from his position. Dean didn’t know what to say, or whether he should say something at all. Would it be too much to put an arm around Cas’ shoulders? It was easy with Sam, easy to hug him, to talk to him to make him feel better, but Cas was different. Dean’s heart ached for Cas, hating seeing him like this and not knowing what he could do to help.

They sat for a long while, neither one speaking, until the pressing silence became too much for Dean.

“Talk to me, Cas, what happened? The angels…”

“It’s my fault. My brothers and sisters, they all Fell because of me.”

“I don’t understand, you said Metatron was going to lock Heaven. Get all the angels to talk it out instead of fighting and manipulating each other.”

“He lied to me. He planned all along to punish us, for revenge, but I wanted to help so badly… So much of what was happening in Heaven was my fault, I felt so guilty, I wanted to make it right.”

Dean could feel the anger bubbling up in the bottom of his stomach, but Cas was still talking. Now that he had started, Cas didn’t seem to want to stop. His voice was low and gravelly from days of non-use, and he didn’t look at Dean while he spoke, he continued to stare at the floor. Dean gritted his teeth and clenched his fists and didn’t say anything.

“I wanted to believe so much that I could make things right, I agreed to help him. Even Naomi tried to warn me about him, but I didn’t listen. And then, I couldn’t stop him. He took – he took my Grace.”

The anger Dean had felt bubbling up suddenly increased in intensity and broke through a dam.

“He what?” snarled Dean. “Where is that son of a bitch? I’ll hunt him down and give him a taste of his own medicine. No one – _no one_ –”

“Dean.”

“How dare he? Using you to get revenge on everyone else! Taking your Grace! Making the angels Fall! No, he won’t get away with this –”

“Dean.”

“I won’t let him get away with this –”

Cas’ hand was on his arm, and Dean looked down, surprised. Cas was looking up at him, eyes wide, and his face pale.

“I deserve this, Dean. After everything I’ve done, this is my just punishment.”

“No.” Dean pulled his arm away from Cas. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing; Cas didn’t deserve any of this – his Grace being taken away, the guilt over wrongly thinking he was to blame, all of it. “Everything you’ve done? Like getting rid of Dick? Helping to stop the Apocalypse? Going against Raphael so I could try to stop Sam from breaking the last Seal? You always mean well, even if things don’t end up that way. You always do what you think is good, and right, and don’t you ever think that you deserve any of this, because you don’t.”

Cas had started shaking his head long before Dean had finished talking, and he carried on now.

“I betrayed my brothers and sisters. I killed many of them.”

“For the good of the Earth, for the sake of peace.”

“Why do care so much, Dean? I’ve betrayed you, more times than I’m ashamed to admit.”

Stunned, Dean blinked. His anger ebbed away, replaced by shock.

“You’re my friend.” Dean’s throat was dry. He swallowed.

“You don’t have friends. Not really. Not anymore.”

“I care about you.”

Cas frowned. “But why?”

“What?”

“I asked why you care.”

Dean was dumbstruck. Of course he cared, he just did. It was one of those things, like how he cared for Sam; he didn’t need a reason why. It tore him apart to see Cas blaming himself like this, hurting and not letting anyone in to help, believing that he got what he deserved when he absolutely did not, and he would do anything to stop Cas from feeling like this again. He would spend another eternity in Hell if it would help, or hunt down every demon and monster on the planet until he’d killed them all. Caring about Cas was something so instinctive - so natural – to Dean that he’d never thought about it before.

“I think I love you.”

The words were out before Dean could stop them. He saw Cas’ face looking up at him, surprise clear on his face. Dean dropped to his knees so that they were both on the same eye level, and Dean shuffled forwards until they were almost nose to nose.

“I love you.” And now Dean was speaking without a thought, letting the words tumble out of his mouth. “You’re always there for me when I need you, and I don’t know what I’d do without you, I don’t know how I managed without you for so long. I hate it when you leave, I’m always restless, and I was worried sick when we didn’t hear from you for days after the angels Fell. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you, and I hate it when you blame yourself for things outside of your control, and that is why I care.”

Dean closed his eyes, not wanting to see Cas’ reaction, to see him pull away, disgusted, to say _oh no, sorry Dean, I was just sent down here to get you out of Hell and things got out of hand, you weren’t meant to care about me_. But Cas didn’t. He didn’t say a word, and the silence stretched out.

Until Dean felt lips brush against his own, and then they were kissing him, tentatively, as if not quite sure what to do, and Dean was kissing him back, taking control, placing a hand at the nape of Cas’ neck. Dean felt Cas relax, his lips softening against his own, before he pulled away. Dean opened his eyes.

“I think I love you, too. It’s a… strange feeling, like I never want to let you go.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, a little breathless, and smiling slightly. “Yeah, it’s a weird one.”

“It’s been there for quite a while, I think.”

“Me too.”

“You never said anything.”

“Neither did you.” When Cas didn’t reply, Dean added, “I was scared that you’d leave.”

“Dean, who faces so many monsters, and demons, and Lucifer himself, scared of one lowly angel leaving him,” Cas mused.

“I know how to deal with the others, I wouldn’t know what to do if you left. And you aren’t lowly to me.”

Dean leaned forward to briefly press his lips to Cas’ again.

“We’re going to fix this,” he said. “I’m going to get you your Grace back, and the other angels’, and we’re going to kick Metatron’s ass. No arguments. We’ve faced the impossible before, and we can do this.”

“You seem so certain.”

“That’s because you’ve got me.”

Dean grinned cheekily up at Cas, and was rewarded by Cas’ own smile, small and sad, but Dean didn’t let it faze him, because he would do this, no matter what anyone said or did to try to stop him. For years, Cas had been there, protecting him, and this was his chance to pay him back, to look after him now that he’d lost everything, and to give it all for his Fallen angel.


End file.
